


Choice

by Ivillpunchyouinthethroat



Series: Sellswords [3]
Category: VIXX
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst, Consorts - Freeform, Feelings, M/M, Other Idols make cameos - Freeform, Slow Burn, Smut, Swordsmen, slight mentions of non-con, some blood and violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-24 01:56:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17091929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ivillpunchyouinthethroat/pseuds/Ivillpunchyouinthethroat
Summary: It was a hurried thing, what they had.Quick stolen kisses in dark corners, away from the prying eyes of the rest of his lord’s estate; trips down to town where they’d lose themselves in the orange orchards instead, hands held tight as they ran through the trees, bright laughter mixing with the aroma of sweet-smelling grass as Hyuk took him in his arms and kissed him.It was the first time in his life that when Hongbin kissed back, when he tightened his arms around Hyuk's body, he meant it.





	Choice

**Author's Note:**

> Timeline wise this happens before They Were Sellswords and Bound.
> 
> Please note:  
> Hongbin is a sex worker in this, issues of consent are inherent, although _never_ in Hyukbin. Despite this there are never any instances of graphic non-con except for a few slight references to it.

The first time he lays with his lord it is…pleasant.

As he’d approached his lord’s bed he’d been wary, wary of all the things he’d been taught might be done to him, of how there were some lords that wanted much more than simple pleasure from their consorts.

He had been wary and he had been prepared, resolve like steel even if his heartrate had picked up as he’d been shown to the lord’s quarters; because this is what he had been trained for, why he’d let those people pick him off the street and save him from a slow life of starvation in exchange for the rights to his body.

 _This_ was why he’d been bought.

But his lord had only taken him by the hand and shed his clothing, pushed him down onto a bed of plush quilts almost gently. He’d kissed him and prepared him and then he’d breached him, a little precipitated maybe, but Hongbin had been instructed well even if it was still technically his first time with another and he’d managed to catch the wince of pain before it could really show.

It wasn’t the best thing Hongbin had ever experienced but it also wasn’t the worst (and he’d heard far too many of those stories back at the Red House from consorts who’d been returned by unsatisfied lords and noblemen carrying heavy marks of black and blue, or with a look in their eyes that made Hongbin shiver with how _barren_ it was) and afterwards his lord had even asked if Hongbin was well.

Hongbin had just smiled—his dazzling smile that he’d been told all those years ago would first be his ticket out of poverty, and second his ticket out of the Red House—and he’d responded that he couldn’t have wished for a better venture into the pleasures of the body that what he’d been given with his lord.

The lord had smiled back, and it had been a vain smile because both his physical need and his pride had been sated—Hongbin had done his job.

Needless to say, Hongbin had not returned to the Red House.

He had been situated well in the consort house of his lord’s estate at first, but it was now five years later and he was a favorite among his lord’s consorts, his prize, his untouched, he had his own room in the main part of his lord’s estate in the same wing as his lord’s own bedchamber—always close for when his lord called upon him. His lord had bought other men and women over the years but they were mostly for show of wealth and rarely if ever called upon, and they all preferred it that way, thanked Hongbin in whatever small way they could that he was enough to keep their lord’s attention, even when Hongbin always assured them that being with their lord, it wasn’t bad at all. Regardless, he felt a sort of kinship with the rest of the lord’s consorts and they with him. They might not have called themselves family but they shared a same life, similar stories, and that was a strong enough bond in and of its self.

He wanted for nothing, had a house, food, a warm bed when he wasn’t called upon to warm his lord’s own. He was gifted with the finest cloths, the finest cosmetics to keep him youthful and above all beautiful—for that was his job in this household, to be his lord’s equivalent of a beautiful human doll.

He was, if not happy, _content._

***

It was on a clear Saturday morning that his lord’s new squadron of guards arrived.

Hongbin had been walking for a handful of minutes already, across the wooden porches that surrounded most of the estate’s walls and along either stone or dirt stamped pathways when it did not. His lord’s estate was a large one, as befitted the ruling lord of the land.

It was as Hongbin had walked past the estate’s entrance, on his way to the kitchens, that he’d seen him, a young onyx haired man—hair so dark it tinted almost blue—looking young enough that it made Hongbin wonder what it was he was doing among his lords barely hired squad of elite guards.  A look at the sword hung at his side, the matching robes he wore and the familiarity with which the older soldiers spoke to him answered Hongbin’s question quickly enough.

 _A rather young soldier then but quite skilled by the looks of things, a prodigy in the art of swordplay perhaps?_ Hongbin mused distractedly.

It was as he’d stared that the young man must have felt eyes on him because he turned and after meetings Hongbin’s gaze, he smiled. Hongbin returned the smile with a polite nod and continued making his way to the kitchen, mind already going back to the current problem he needed to discuss with the cooks.

The young man and his smile faded to the back of his mind and for many days he thought nothing further of it.

***

The second time he noticed the young soldier was a few weeks later.

He’d been dining with his lord in one of his private dining areas, a newly bought consort sat at his side.

He’d been tasked with showing her around the estate, familiarizing her with the other consorts at the consort house and most importantly, preparing her, as much as anyone could be prepared, for the first night she’d be spending with their lord.

He was to fill her on what his lord did and did not like in the bedchamber, all the small tricks of their trade that could be applied in order to make their lord’s night more pleasurable, more memorable, so that their lord would leave the room the next day with good memories and a fondness enough for the woman that she would be allowed to stay here in their lords estate. And so far she had been doing fine. She was a petite, compact woman, more delicate than his lord’s usual taste but she had a surprising wit and humor and Hongbin could already tell that she would do well in his lord’s house.

And that she would do well with the other consorts already living here too, which was a detail Hongbin always hoped for in his lord’s new consorts.

The dinner had gone extremely well but was fast coming to a close and Hongbin could already see the gleam in the eye of his lord that signaled it would soon be time for Hongbin to escort her to his lord’s chamber.

And he had been about to do exactly that when the assassins had burst in.

There was stillness for a few moments, the handful of guards posted at each of the dining room’s doors frozen in almost shock at the two unexpected assassin who’d leapt in through the room’s windows and tumbled across the floor only to roll directly to their feet, daggers out  and already sprinting towards the lord at the head of the table.

But the stillness only lasted a fraction of a second, these men were the elite guards his lord had hired and they were elite for a reason.

Before Hongbin could blink, before his lord could finish gasping, one of the assassins was already laid dead on the floor, a sword ran clean through his stomach and it only took another blink of an eye before the rest of the guards had the lord surrounded.  A wall of human protection against the remaining assassin.

But if the remaining assassin’s original target now lay beyond reach this did not seem to deter him for long. In one swift movement he had shifted his course from the lord towards Hongbin, the steel of his dagger flashing in the candlelight of the room as he ran.

Hongbin sat frozen as the assassin drew closer and in that instant he knew what his fate would be.

If the assassin could not claim the head of Hongbin’s lord for the glory of his own master, then he would at least take something of his target that was prized. And prized Hongbin may have been to his lord but he also knew the guards in the room were tasked with his lord’s protection first and foremost and even if Hongbin _was_ favored, he would receive no help. They would sit and watch him be slaughtered if it meant protecting the lord.

So Hongbin watched with equal terror and passivity as the assassin drew nearer, as he raised his dagger, as he brought it down—

Only for it to be deflected by a sword.

A sword that connected to hand that connected to a body that connected to the face of the young swordsmen Hongbin had seen all those weeks ago.

And despite Hongbin’s initial surprise at the swordsmen’s youth he was able to experience firsthand why it was that this young mans was an elite.

The assassin never stood a chance, in an instant the dagger had been knocked from his grasp and when the assassin had instead drawn his own sword from his side the young man had smoothly deflected any swing sent his way. The fight was over in a matter of seconds and it ended with the young guard’s sword ran clean through the assassin’s heart.

There was silence again as the assassin’s body fell with a thud to the wood floor and for those brief moments all Hongbin heard was his thundering heartbeat. But the silence was soon interrupted by another of his lord’s guards, the captain to be exact; a burly man, with a grim and serious face, who walked up to the young swordsmen only to backhand him viciously.

“You fool!” the older guard said, voice furious, “You dare leave the defense of the Lord to protect a _whore_?”

The word stung, as it always had, but Hongbin—even with is heart racing, even after facing death—had been trained too well and the hurt did not so much as flicker on his face.

The young swordsmen turned to his superior, cheek red and blood trickling at the corner of his lips. It was easy to see the anger that was fast clouding his face but he kept his voice even as he responded.

“There was an opening, I could save this _man’s_ life,” he gestured to Hongbin, emphasizing the word man, as if to intentionally avoid the word his superior had so crassly thrown, “while making sure that the assassin was dispatched so that he would no longer present a threat to our lord. There did not need to be any innocent blood shed.”

The young man’s voice was so much deeper than Hongbin would have ever imagined it—

The crack of another backhand rang out into the room.

“The only blood worth caring about in this room is that of our lord, our services are not to be used on anyone lesser and _especially_ not for a whor—”

“Enough,” the lord’s voice rang out as he made his way out of the circle of guards that still surrounded him. He walked over to the young swordsmen and his captain.

“There is no need for punishment,” the lord’s voice was somewhat shaky but commanding nonetheless, “not when this young man has saved the life of my favored.”

“But my Lord,” the captain immediately argued, “he left your defenses to—”

“And I trust, Captain,” his lord interrupted voice colder now, “that you and your men were competent enough to keep me safe regardless. I hired you because of that particular skill set, did I not.”

“Yes Lord,” the captain said quickly, bowing his head, knowing when to back down to his lord’s wishes.

“No,” his lord continued, as he turned and clapped the young guard on the shoulder, “what this young man needs is praise. Captain, you will see that he receives fair compensation for saving the life of my favored consort _and_ you will make him Hongbin’s personal guard.”

“But my Lord,” the captain once again began to argue, “we are _your_ elite personal guards—”

“If there was an attempt on Hongbin’s life,” his lord interrupted again, voice heated now, “then we can be sure there will be others. And _I_ will not sit here as my enemies try to take away something that is _mine._ What message would that send, hmm?”

He turned back to the equally shocked young guard in front of him (though he hid it considerably better than his captain) the surprise making him look even younger against the older greying features of his lord.

“I trust you will protect my favored from any further attempts on his life?” the lord asked.

The guard’s eyes flicked over to Hongbin once before he bowed his head low.

“I will protect him with my life, my Lord.”

“Good man,” the lord responded, smiling before he turned to Hongbin, one hand briefly coming to cup his cheek, “I am relieved you are safe.”

Hongbin’s smile was brittle but hi lord did not notice as he turned quickly back to his captain.

“Now, Captain,” he said, “I wish to discuss _how_ exactly these assassins entered _my_ estate, when _you_ are the one in charge of my defenses.”

***

It was on the first day after the incident that Hongbin had woken up a little startled to find the young guard posted outside his bedroom door. It was only after the man had followed him first to the kitchens and now to the consort house that Hongbin had finally turned around and smiled warmly.

“If you are truly to be my guard at all times, then I would like to at least learn the name of my shadow.”

The young guard smiled back, a little chagrined, “Hyuk, Master. And I am honored to be tasked with your safety.” The guard bowed low and formal, spine stiff and fists clenched and the sight unnerved Hongbin like most things never did.

“Please Hyuk,” Hongbin said, voice a little more subdued, “I am no one’s master, you may call me Hongbin.”

Hyuk still bowed his head as he answered, “Yes, Hongbin.”

And Hongbin’s personal guard the young swordsmen indeed became.

He stood guard over his rooms while he slept, accompanied him on whatever walks he took, whether it was as far as the town near his lord’s estate or if it was as close as the estate kitchens.

And throughout the months that followed, as he and Hyuk conversed (because unlike his lord, if he was to have guards he would not pretend they were not there, what good was it to have a live shadow if you could not converse with him?) as Hongbin found out that Hyuk was young, but not as young as he’d first imagined, as he found that the guard, after his initial stage of almost shyness, was naturally open and bright, quick to laugh when not under the eye of his superior and surprisingly inquisitive of the books (often of poetry) that Hongbin read, even more inquisitive when he’d found that Hongbin wrote poetry himself—

And  most importantly, as he realized that Hyuk, despite the many times he’d accompanied Hongbin on the consort’s way to the lord’s bed, had never once looked at him differently than he did any other person, as if he _were_ just any other person and not—

Well, it made Hongbin almost glad that the assassin had tried to come after him those weeks ago.

***

At Hyuk’s ceaseless curiosity Hongbin lent him a book of poetry, and then another and despite his initial hesitance at accepting the guard went through them as if he wanted to devour the ink on the page. Yet when Hongbin casually suggested one day that Hyuk try his own hand at the craft he was surprised when Hyuk was quick to look away, when for the first time since knowing him the guard looked strangely unsure. It softened his features, stripped away the cool self-assurance of a soldier and replaced it instead with the uncertainty of someone far younger.

“No I..I really don’t think I’d be all that good at it.”

“And why not?” Hongbin asked, his tone as casual as he could make it, “If you have never tried then how will you know?”

If anything, Hyuk looked even more uncomfortable, practically squirming under Hongbin’s gaze when he’d faced down would be assassins with fewer nerves.

“Just…I’m not…” he paused, seemed to search for words without success, “I’m a soldier Hongbin, we—we usually don’t have much in the way of schooling, I have enough to get by just—” He laughed then, but it was forced in a way Hongbin had never heard from him. “We don’t need brains just brawn.” He held his smile but it was as fake as his laugh had been, tips of his ears a burning red and his shoulders hunched in almost protectively.

And Hongbin could not stand the sight of it, because he knew that look. It was the look he’d seen on consorts back at the Red House after they’d returned from noble houses, a look reserved when you felt less than the people around you, when the people around you made _sure_ you felt that way, it was a look that never belonged on Hyuk of all people, _ever_.

“Nonsense,” Hongbin said and he was surprised at the amount of bite his voice held, how much he truly hoped his words reached Hyuk, “I’ve seen you memorize entire drills and formations in under an hour when it takes your colleagues several, I know that the patrols that the guards take up around the estate are largely your design,” he paused to add under his breath, “much to the eternal annoyance of the bear that calls himself your captain,” before continuing, “and I’ve seen win time and time again against comrades at cards and dice, both games requiring strategy.”

Hongbin narrowed his eyes and as far as he remembered this was the most forward he’d ever spoken to Hyuk before.

“So do not sit there and tell me that all you have is brawn,” he leaned forward, brought a hand up to flick lightly at Hyuk’s forehead, shocked at the familiarity he was taking only after the action was already done, “when I _know_ there is a brain in there just as strong.”

Hyuk’s eyes were wide and there was silence and it was just as Hongbin had been worrying that he’d taken entirely too much familiarity that a smile broke out across the guards face, a little shy still, a little unsure, but a true one nonetheless.

Hongbin could only smile back when suddenly something strange fluttered in his stomach, something warm.

It took Hongbin momentarily by surprise, but he masked it well.

Besides, it had not been an unpleasant feeling.

***

The next day had Hongbin walking out of his chambers only to dump a sheaf of papers and an inkpot in Hyuk’s hands, the young guard fumbling with the tools as he fought not to drop them.

“I don’t expect you to show me, but I do expect you to at least try,” Hongbin said, turning away quickly before Hyuk had even responded, “Come now, we’re heading to the consort house, I’m due for some tea and a round of court gossip.”

He heard Hyuk stumbling to catch up to him, paper crinkling, but when he spoke there was warmth in his voice.

“Fine then, but if you’re going to have me writing poetry then I’m teaching you all to play dirty dice like the rest of us guards!”

Hongbin turned and smiled.

“I look forward to it.”

***

The rest of the consorts loved dirty dice almost as much as they loved Hyuk whenever Hongbin brought him by.

(Because they saw it too, of course they did, the way Hyuk never looked at them differently)

 But amid the laughter and the groans of money lost and squeals of money gained Hongbin also saw how some of the consorts looked at them both.

How the eyes of the men and women around them flicked quickly between Hyuk and Hongbin yet always, inevitably, landed back on Hongbin.

How they were a curious mixture of surprised, amused, mischievous—but most of all, how some of them held sadness too.

Hongbin pretended not to notice.

***

It was a few days later that he and Dasom, another of their lord’s consorts, gathered around the lord’s newest addition to their ranks—a young man by the name of Kyungsoo. They scurried around him, dressing him, styling his hair, adding faint touches of rouge to his cheeks, preparing him for dinner with their lord and then his first night in his bed.

The young man was nervous, that much they could tell with the way he kept wringing his hands, how he played with a simple metal ring around is left index finger—having refused to take it off even at Dasom’s behest.

“Your— _our_ lord,” he caught himself, swallowing nervously before continuing, “how…how does he take his pleasure?”

Ahh, Hongbin knew that fear, fear of what awaited him in the bed of a stranger, if it would even be pleasure.

“Normally enough,” he answered with a warm smile, wanting to be reassuring, “you’ll find our lord has quite ordinary tastes.”

“Oh—oh, that’s—that’s good then,” Kyungsoo replied, some of his earlier tension already bleeding out of his shoulders.

“Besides,” Dasom said as she leaned over to place a few more ornamental pins into his hair, “this will probably be one of the few times he beds you.”

The young consort was surprised, and it clearly showed.

“Does he prefer women then?”

“No,” she replied as she placed the last of the pins, “he prefers Hongbin.”

Kyungsoo’s eyes widened, flicking between her and Hongbin nervously.

Hongbin could only chuckle, “Dasom, you’ve made him nervous now.”

“Huh?” Dasom replied as she finally pulled enough away that she could see the young man’s expression, her eyes widened as she finally read his gaze.

“Oh, no, no! Don’t worry our consort house isn’t like that! We don’t we envy each other our lord’s attention—if that’s what you were worried about.”

More tension bled out of Kyungsoo’s frame.

Dasom smiled, “No, in fact we’re all a little grateful. Hongbin manages to keep our lord’s attention for the most part. I’ve only had lie with him a few times since I arrived. It’s…it’s nice. Especially compared to where I was before…”

Dasom’s smile turned a little brittle but she shook it off almost instantly, perking up as she brandished a stick of kohl.

“Now let me just finish lining your eyes and you’ll be set!”

When Dasom finished Kyungsoo’s eyes she retired with a smile and final encouraging nod to the new consort, leaving only Hongbin to finish adjusting his robes before escorting him to their lord’s quarters.

“You…” Kyungsoo began, “you don’t mind?”

Hongbin looked up from where he was fiddling with Kyungsoo’s robe.

“Being our lord’s favored?”

Kyungsoo nodded.

Hongbin smiled, “No, and after tonight I think you’ll find he’s actually an agreeable man.”

“You care for him then?”

The question caught Hongbin off guard.

“No, I—” he found himself hesitating, oddly enough, “Being with our lord is not unagreeable and it makes most of the other consorts happy that they aren’t called to him bed as often.”

“So you’re…happy here?”

“I am—” Hongbin found his word uncharacteristically halted for the second time, “I am content.”

There was knock on the door before it opened a fraction, enough for Hyuk to peak through.

The guard nodded pleasantly at Kyungsoo before he turned to Hongbin, “Just wanted to let you know we have ten minutes before the lord’s dinner and that I should have never taught Soyou how to play dirty dice because she just robbed me of a week’s worth of my pay while I waited for you.”

There was laughter from behind Hyuk and Soyou’s voice carried into the room. “You could always try to win it back Hyuk!”

“Not unless I wanted to lose a month’s worth instead!” Hyuk halfway shouted over his shoulder before turning back around, smile bright on his face.

Hongbin could not help the answering smile that graced his features as he shook his head at Hyuk’s losses, “We’re almost done here, now please, don’t lose any more of your pay before we leave.”

Hyuk gave him a small salute, eyes twinkling and mischievous, “Don’t plan to,” before he shut the door once more. Hongbin could only grin wider before turning back to Kyungsoo.

The boy was looking at him with wide eyes, fingers of one hand fiddling once more with his ring.

“That guard, are you and he—”

“That ring,” Hongbin interrupted, “why do you refuse to part with it.” And his voice, while hasty, was not unkind.

Kyungsoo’s eyes lowered to his ring and in that instant Hongbin almost regretted asking because the young man’s features dimmed along with his eyes.

“I—one of the…one of the other consorts at my Red House, we—” a small smile, “he gave this to me, to remember him by when I left.”

Something twisted in Hongbin’s chest.

“It was stupid—we—we always knew one of us would have to leave—eventually.”

Hongbin had no words for that, nothing he could offer because this was their life, but that did not mean he was entirely heartless to this young man’s pain.

“A treasure then,” he said, “one you’ll be able to look at fondly and relive all the memories you shared.”

Kyungsoo looked up at him with a bittersweet smile.

“I suppose.”

And then the young consort seemed to shake himself and with it his melancholy and earlier nerves too.

“Now, I believe it’s time to meet the lord of the house.”

Hongbin gave a fond smile before he nodded and led Kyungsoo out of the room.

***

“I was an orphan, before.”

Hongbin did not know why he was speaking, he hadn’t told anyone this, not even the other consorts (and it had always been an unspoken rule anyways, no one asked about your life _before_ , if you wished to tell it you did, and Hongbin never had).

It was a bitterly cold night and Hongbin had just returned from his lords’ chambers, walking quickly through long frigid hallways to find Hyuk had already started a fire in his own room. 

Warmth had enveloped him as soon as he had opened the door, and he’d quickly turned to Hyuk—who stood as ever, at his doorway—“Come, at least warm yourself a little before you resign yourself to the icy night ahead.”

Hyuk had only given him an appreciative look as he’s stepped in and taken his place beside the door once more.

Hongbin had quickly settled himself by the fire, content to let the flames warm him.

But maybe it was that the night was too cold or that his lord had been particularly fervent when all Hongbin (especially on a night like this) had wanted to do was retire to his room, not writhe under the man as if the lords passion was matched in Hongbin’s own body—but as he waited he found that the cold would not subside.

Instead there was something odd that began blooming in his chest, some strange feeling that came of half-forgotten memories that nights like these never failed to stir up.

It was that feeling that had prompted him to speak and continue speaking

“Cold nights like these, they remind me of that, sometimes.”

Of bitter freezing night, of fingers and toes turned blue with cold and teeth that would not cease to chatter, of that wretched pit of gnawing hunger in his stomach that never eased, never abated—

He wrapped his robes tighter around him, watching Hyuk from the periphery of his vision, but the young guard did not move, did not speak, and yet his silence wasn’t heavy, wasn’t questioning or judgmental either.  It simply was, as most of their silences had become.

It was just as the silence had extended beyond the realm of a reply, just when Hongbin would have been fine with no reply—

“I left home when I was 12, picked up my first sword when I was 13—” Hyuk shrugged as if his next words didn’t carry the weight memories such as these Hongbin knew to carry, “was the first time I used it on a man too. Didn’t know what I was doing though, just got lucky the guy didn’t expect a 13 year old to charge him with a sword that was almost half his size. I got even luckier after that, I’d just—well the man didn’t exactly get up after that—” Hyuk did not seem apologetic about it, “but a swordsmen had seen the whole thing. He was impressed—amused is more like it—he trained me well.”

There was silence again but the air was lighter than before and Hongbin could already feel the warmth of the conversation begin seeping into his bones.

***

“Teach me how to wield a blade Hyuk.”

He’d been joking (albeit wistfully) because who would ever give a consort any type of weapon let alone a sword, especially a sword as finely crafted as Hyuk’s.

So Hongbin labeled it a justified reaction when he did nothing but gape when Hyuk offered him one of his easy smiles and actually said _yes._

The soldier didn’t laugh at him—at the prospect of a _consort_ wielding a blade—and instead of saying something along the lines of “Swordplay is not suitable for a consort” or “Holding a blade would only callous your hands” he said—

“Come, I’ll show you.”

He unsheathed his blade and explained to Hongbin that one of the first lesson he’d been taught was that mastery over steel came first from a mastery of grip and proper handling. He  demonstrated and then he beckoned Hongbin closer and handed his blade over to him, his own hands secure over Hongbin’s smaller ones as he let Hongbin become accustomed to the weapon’s heft.

Hongbin was just glad that he didn’t drop the sword when Hyuk let go—the weight of the weapon causing it to sag a little in his hold nonetheless—shock still within him because he was holding a _sword_.

He was holding a sword that Hyuk had given him freely and had just offered to teach him how to use.

Hongbin grinned then, strain already settling in his arms from holding the sword aloft, muscles not used to holding such a weight, but the strain felt good, felt tangible, felt _his._

Hongbin felt the weight of that steel in his hands for the rest of the day, and when he looked into his lord’s eyes that night, when he offered the man his dazzling smile, he thought only of Hyuk.

***

And it was after that, that he’d come to recognize what that flutter he’d felt his stomach was—

 Well no, that was a lie, he’d known what it was a long time ago—even if he had _never_ felt such a thing before—he just hadn’t let himself think about it.

But there was only so much he could hide from himself when he closed his eyes and imagined that it was another man atop him instead of his lord, one with hair as black as night and a jawline that was as sharply defined as his sword.

He knew what it meant but Hongbin also knew what he was.

He was a consort, he was his _lord’s_ consort and if all he would ever have was Hyuk’s company, well, that was more than enough.

It was enough that Hongbin had the opportunity to foster such warm feelings somewhere deep his chest in a place he’d never thought he’d have a use for at all, enough that Hyuk still taught him slowly, how to handle a blade so that Hongbin’s once slender arms now had the beginning of the muscle required to wield such steel. Enough that Hongbin taught the swordsmen poetic forms in turn, enough that Hyuk conversed with him, laughed with him, enough that the man looked at Hongbin and saw more than a consort.

He saw a man as any other, worthy of respect.

***

The sun dipped lower and lower on the horizon, shadows on the ground stretching longer by the minute and still Hyuk sparred, the sharp crack of wooden swords echoing across the estate.

Hongbin sat in the awning shaded porch of the west wing, kneeled at a low table, cool drink at his side and a book of poetry opened before him. Yet despite the well-worn pages—despite the ink that scrawled along them and beckoned Hongbin with the familiarity of countless times read, he found that his favorite book could not hold his attention.

No, instead Hongbin found his gaze pulled, inexorably toward the training ring set up on the far side of the wing, the very same ring where currently, Hyuk sparred with another of the guard elites.

Their sparring would have been enough to attract Hongbin’s attention in and of itself, the way the two men moved, effortless and fluid, their practice swords blurs as they swung and blocked and counterattacked. As always, Hyuk’s opponent was older, by many years, probably had that much more experience as a swordsman, but as Hongbin had come to expect, Hyuk was his equal in every way.

That alone should have been enough to draw Hongbin’s attention but Hongbin was also not in the habit of lying to himself—at least not so blatantly—and he would indeed be lying if he did not admit that swordplay was not the entire reason his gaze could not leave the ring.

The day had been a brutally hot one, the sun bright and nary a cloud to provide any cover from its heat or a whisper of wind to chill the skin and it was only as dusk descended that the day had finally begun to cool.

Hyuk had begun training with the rest of the guard hours ago, back when the sun had still been strong and high and so he and the rest of the guard had done the one thing they could to cool off, they’d stripped down the top half of their robes.

And that, Hongbin had to admit, was the main reason that his eyes wandered.

Because even in the darkening light around him Hongbin had no trouble seeing the stark definition of muscle that rippled and shifted as Hyuk danced with his opponent. The sweat that plastered his dark hair to his forehead and dripped down the wide expanse of his chest, past the ridged bumps of his abdomen and down towards—

“A pleasing sight,” a warm voice spoke at Hongbin’s side and although Hongbin did not flinch—gaze tearing itself away from the ring—it was a near thing.

The highly amused face of Boa, the consort mother, the older consort that governed and practically ran the lord’s consort house, greeted him as she sat down next to him

“The sparring, I mean,” she quickly added, the gleam in her eye only growing.

“Yes,” Hongbin managed to say smoothly, unflappably, “indeed, one cannot help but marvel at the skill required to achieve such advanced swordplay.”

“Of course,” she responded before fanning herself, rather exaggeratedly in Hongbin’s opinion, “such a hot day today, those guards have the right idea stripping down like that.”

Hongbin gave a smile, a polite nod. “Yes well, the day is cooling, the sun is setting and I hope my guard has had his fill of training as he will soon need to escort me to our lords quarters, I believe he has requested me tonight.”

His tone was not accusatory, not challenging, it was spoken as if Hongbin had been in the depths of a most normal conversation and if the woman sitting next to him had not been so good at reading him already, if she had not been the first one to welcome Hongbin when he’d been bought all those years ago—if she had not been the closest thing to a mother Hongbin had had his entire life—she would _not_ have noticed how Hongbin’s hands tensed, just barely, around the book they still held.

But she was, and she did.

One of Boa’s hands came to rest atop of his and when Hongbin looked up her features were kind, the faint wrinkles around her eyes deepening as she smiled.

“We are consorts yes, but that does not mean that life does not hold gifts for us as well, even if they are few and far between, sometimes.”

Hongbin held her gaze by sheer willpower alone even when he wanted nothing but to glance towards the training ring once more. He smiled nonetheless, the forever present impassivity of his eyes lowered, just for her, if only for a moment.

“And those gifts can be appreciated, the fact that they appeared at all rather a blessing, even if circumstances deny us the chance of ever fully accepting them.”

The consort mother’s smile was a little sadder this time as she responded, “True.”

Her hand tightened atop Hongbin’s own.

***

“Here,” Hyuk said, red faced and fidgety as he practically shoved a sheet of paper at him.

Hongbin startled, hands coming up to gather the paper that Hyuk had already dropped without waiting for Hongbin to even grab it first.

“What’s this?” Hongbin asked, amused at Hyuk’s uncharacteristic anxiety.

“You…you said I didn’t have to show you unless I wanted to…but that—that one, that one I wanted to.”

Hongbin’s brows arched and he glanced down, warmth suffusing through him as he realized that yes, what Hyuk was showing him was poetry in Hyuk’s own hand.

“It’s—it’s not very good or anything but….”

Hyuk was looking down, hand at the back of his neck that was now just as red as his cheeks.

There was a matching warmth at Hongbin’s cheeks as well.

“Oh I doubt that, but I’m happy that you would show me anyway.”

Hyuk looked up, small smile cutting through his nerves and eyes just as shining.

***

It was in an empty clearing in the orange orchards outside of town that Hongbin swung, Hyuk’s blade singing as it cut through the air; once, twice, then a pattern of measured steps in rhythm with the swings of the sword, a 180-degree pivot that made Hongbin’s robes flare around him and then finally a standstill, Hyuk’s blade extended before him at a slight upwards angle.

Hongbin’s chest heaved, the exertion from having preformed this new sequence of maneuvers that Hyuk had been teaching for the past two weeks showing in the way his breath came in broken pants. But that was the only way it showed, he held Hyuk’s sword perfectly still, the newly acquired muscles in Hongbin’s arms corded as he did not allow the sword to so much as tremble in his grasp.

He stayed still for a few moments more, enough to signal the finality of this sequence before he let out a long breath and finally relaxed, lowering Hyuk’s blade slowly.

He brought his free hand up to push back the strands of damp hair that had fallen into his eyes and he looked up, already expecting to have comments about his latest attempt. He was met, instead, with Hyuk’s intense stare, eyes wider than usual, lips slightly parted and even as Hongbin met his gaze he did not move.

“I messed up the timing on the footwork again, didn’t I?” Hongbin halfway groaned, taking Hyuk’s silence as a form of critique. This particular sequence had been giving Hongbin trouble, mostly because it was one the first advanced forms that Hyuk had begun teaching him. He’d been attempting it for a little under an hour at this point, but he’d been learning for _weeks_ already.

It made him frustrated to say the least.

“Look Hyuk, I don’t think I’m going to be able to —”

“No—!” Hongbin startled at Hyuk’s vehemence and even the swordsman seemed taken aback as he paused and lowered his volume before he continued, “No, that was—that was—perfect.”

Hongbin was surprised before he felt himself grin open and wide, something he rarely ever let himself indulge in, “You mean I finally got it?”

Hyuk’s answering was for some reason almost tentative but is spread across his features slowly like warmed chocolate. “Yes,” he replied voice low and soft, “you did. You were perfect.”

Hyuk kept looking at him and the air around them felt heavy but it was not a weight Hongbin found he minded.

***

The first time they kissed was not at all what Hongbin had already been thinking of for months.

The day had come not while Hyuk instructed him in swordplay; when the guard stood close, dictating how Hongbin should hold his blade, when his hands ran over his body and corrected his stance, when he stood behind and showed Hongbin with hands at his hips how his body should swivel when he swung, when he leaned down close enough to rumble instructions into Hongbin’s ear—

No, that day had come when they’d sat under a tree on the lonely road back to their lord’s estate, cooling off from the arid heat of the day after a trip into town.

They talked about everything and anything as they always did and it was as Hongbin was relating a particularly humorous story about one of the perfume vendors in town that he turned only for Hyuk’s face to be far closer than it’d been before.

He was startled into silence by Hyuk’s proximity and it was only seconds later that his eyes widened in shock as Hyuk rushed forward and awkwardly brushed his lips to his.

It was a clumsy, hurried, _brief,_ kiss, none of the passion filled things Hongbin had already spent an embarrassing amount of his days dreaming about.

But Hyuk pulled back too soon, eyes just as open as Hongbin’s and fear already starting to cloud them. It made him look so young.

“Hongbin— _Master,_ forgi—”

But Hongbin’s hand had come up of his own volition, no prior thought to it (even when one of his first lessons at the Red House had been to _never_ act without thought) to Hyuk’s cheek, cupping it in place as he brought his lips to Hyuk’s again, this time in a proper kiss.

***

It was a hurried thing, what they had.

Quick stolen kisses in dark corners, away from the prying eyes of the rest of his lord’s estate; trips down to town where they’d lose themselves in the orange orchards instead, hands held tight as they ran through the trees, bright laughter mixing with the aroma of sweet-smelling grass as Hyuk took him in his arms and kissed him.

It was the first time in his life that when Hongbin kissed back, when he tightened his arms around Hyuk’s body, he meant it.

***

But even if Hongbin could forget for a time—with the fluttering newness of what they had, with Hyuk’s hands around him or his lips against his, with secret looks shared and eyes that shown liquid and bright and _warm_ —nights always came.

And with them the reminder of who Hongbin was.

And yet, after their first clumsy kiss, when the time came that Hyuk once again walked with him on his way to their lords chambers; when for the first time in his entire life Hongbin felt the weight of who he was and what he did so heavy on his shoulders, when looking at Hyuk at his side suddenly felt monumental because Hyuk—he’d known who he was when he first kissed him but _this_ , he was leading him to another man’s bed and—

But in the empty hallways of their lord’s estate, as Hyuk accompanied him to another man’s bed all Hyuk did was bump his shoulder to his, enough that Hongbin was forced to look his way. When Hongbin did it was only to see the same liquid warmth in Hyuk’s eyes as always.

Hyuk’s hand brushed his and suddenly Hongbin could breathe, the weight that’d been heavy on his shoulders evaporating to nothing.

He’d been foolish, Hyuk had never looked at him another way.

He walked into his lord’s chambers with shoulders set and chin held high.

***

There was a twinge in Hongbin’s waist that flared every time he leaned one way and a stiffness in his back that only resulted of hours sat in the same exact pose. His shoulders felt weary and yet all he’d had to support was the falsely cheerful atmosphere of the room around him.

At the moment, if felt like the weight of the world.

His lord was entertaining a noble from a neighboring land, a very _important_ noble, as far as Hongbin knew and his lord had spared no expense in entertaining his guest while at the same time showing off the wealth and luxury of his own house.

He’d had the cooks toiling since morning the day _before_ , hot and exhausted in the kitchens preparing such an extravagant feast for only a handful of people that it would have fed half the villagers in the lords’ town. Florist had come in and decorated every space available in his lords dining room with bouquets and wreaths of beautiful sweet smelling flowers and if it were not for the way their saccharine scent clashed with savory scents of the food before him and the more piercing scent of the incense that burned around the room, Hongbin would have admired the beautiful blooms. As it was, the combining aromas had only served to give Hongbin an unforgiving headache that grew worse the louder the lord and his guests became after every cup of wine.

His lord had dressed in his finest clothes, had his servants polish the wood of the floor till it gleamed, hired musicians to play quietly in one corner of the hall and here Hongbin had sat at the lord’s side for _hours_ already _,_ spine stiff and expression frozen on a formal smile that he could not drop.

He was one of the lords’ luxuries that the man wished to boast after all, Hongbin knew that to be the only reason his lord had asked him to accompany to such a dinner. It was certainly not for Hongbin’s company for the man had barely looked his way, but rather so that the visiting noble could look at him and see what beauty his lord’s money had been able to buy.

An untouched.

And for once Hongbin found that the knowledge grated on him, in a way he’d never let it before. The knowledge that he’d be forced to sit here, silent and mute and watch  the noble across from him leer his way all so that his lord could boast that he had been the only one to ever lay in Hongbin’s bed.

It made Hongbin’s hand tighten were he held them demurely at his lap, made his smile feel stretched and brittle, made it so that the only thought keeping him still was the fact that Hyuk would be waiting for him, as always, when he walked back to his room later that night.

That thought alone was enough to have the smile at his face feel at once more genuine.

“You—” the noble spoke, words slightly slurred with alcohol already in his system, pointing a fork of dripping meat his way, “whor—er escort— _consort_ —whatever the hell you’re called in these lands. What’s your name?”

Hongbin grit his teeth but he smiled through it, bowing his head slightly, “Hongbin, lord.”

But the noble was no longer even looking at him, instead speaking to the lord, “He good in bed that one? He certainly has the looks. How much for a taste, eh?”

Hongbin felt his teeth creak under the strain with which he clenched them, hands held so tightly they shook.

“Ah, Hongbin—” his lord replied, cheeks pink in his inebriation, and for a moment, a small one, Hongbin thought that maybe the lord would actually speak for him, would tell the noble that that was no way to speak a _person,_ “—he’s as beautiful as when I first bought him, certainly. And believe me his skills in the bedroom are _not_ lacking but I’m afraid that’s where your knowledge will end, _my_ hands are the only ones his body has known, and I intend to  keep it that way, no matter how much coin you may throw my way.”

“Pity,” the noble said with a snort, “but I have enough whores of my own I suppose.”

And just like that Hongbin was forgotten once more, merely another of his lord’s decorations.

The rest of the dinner passed by with terrible, clawing slowness and by the time Hongbin was given leave—only when the lord and his noble guest had drunk enough to barely be able to stand let alone make their way up from the table and stagger towards the door to their rooms—there were nail-shaped divots etched in the inside of Hongbin’s palms

He rushed to his room afterwards, his features a storm if the startled looks some of the servants he ran into were any indication. As he’d already known Hyuk stood at his door side, a greeting smile already on his face only it for to quickly disappear as he saw Hongbin’s expression.

“Hongbin what—” he stared to ask, brows already drawing down and in. But Hongbin did not respond just slid his door open brusquely and motioned for Hyuk to follow. As soon as Hyuk had shut the door behind him he had an armful of Hongbin as the consort all but flung himself at the guard, hand’s coming to fist in the robes over Hyuk’s chest.

The guard’s arms were around him almost instinctually, “Hongbin what happened?” he asked, alarm plain in his voice.

But Hongbin only burrowed deeper into Hyuk’s arms, breathing in deep and reveling in the comforting scent of Hyuk, letting the familiar aroma of  spice and cedar start to battle away his headache and the furious haze that’d surround his mind up until he got here.

“Nothing—nothing just—” Hongbin started, “stay like this for a little while. Okay?”

Hyuk only tightened his arms further, leaning down to nuzzle his cheek in Hongbin’s hair “Of course.”

They stayed like that for a while, their breaths slowing down until eventually they breathed together.

Hyuk shifted. “What happened?” he asked again, gentler this time.

“The lord and his noble guest,” Hongbin rumbled, venom in his voice once more but nothing to what he’d been feeling earlier, “they—they barely even acknowledged I was there and when they did—they—they acted as if I wasn’t even a _person.”_

He felt Hyuk tense around him.

“Although I don’t know why I’m surprised,” Hongbin continued, words muffled in Hyuk’s chest, “that’s why he _bought_ me after all.”

Hyuk didn’t say anything to that, just tightened his arms further, one hand coming to card through Hyuk’s hair while the other rubbed at his back. And strangely, it was the exact thing that Hongbin needed. Not loud and heated words that the lord and his guest were noble idiots, no vehement rebuttals that Hongbin was a person just like any other.

No, Hongbin knew all that already.

So Hongbin stayed in Hyuk’s arms, his silence and the comfort of his embrace doing more to soothe Hongbin than words ever could.

***

Hongbin was at the consort house again, sat around a small table with Boa, Dasom, Soyou, and Kyungsoo, cards in hand and a small pile of coin in front of them as they played a quick game. Hyuk would have been playing with them, never one to miss a chance at a bit of gambling with the rest of the consorts but that day was unfortunately one of the few times that Hyuk was not at Hongbin’s side. He’d been called to train with the rest of the squad elites instead.

Hyuk had not wanted to go, he had masked it well but Hongbin had been able to tell and he knew it was not because of the drills themselves but because of the prolonged time he’d have to spend under the direction of his captain.

The oaf of a man had held a lingering resentment towards Hyuk ever since his Lord had praised the young guard and reprimanded _him_ during the failed assassination attempt instead of Hyuk. He had also not bothered to hide his resentment and it had been all too evident in the sneers aimed their way whenever he and Hongbin, and by extension, Hyuk bumped paths.

He was harsher with Hyuk than he was with any of his other soldiers, never wasting a moment to criticize his new role as personal guard, his age, anything he could think of. He made Hyuk train twice as long as any other of their guards even when Hyuk performed his drills perfectly, made sure to give him bruises to sport whenever they sparred, and found faults in Hyuk’s swordplay when there was none.

It was _infuriating_ and Hongbin had once tried telling Hyuk that maybe Hongbin could mention his mistreatment in passing to their lord but Hyuk been vehemently against it; saying that if he went to their lord, he’d only earn the dislike and distrust of the rest of his squad as well. The squad elites were apparently a close-knit bunch and going to a superior about problems within the squad was akin to mutiny. Hongbin had scoffed, “It’s not as if you’re going back on the oath you took as a guard!”

“No,” Hyuk answered, “but trust is important between us.”

Hongbin had not liked it, had not like the way the captain looked at Hyuk, at _him—_ but in the end he would not go against Hyuk’s wishes either.

So now Hyuk was stuck with the man for the day, learning new drill formations, instead of here getting swindled—as Hongbin currently was—by Soyou.

“We are missing Hyuk’s company,” Boa said as she laid down a card on the table and picked up another from the pile before her, “it’s rare the day that that boy isn’t walking in your shadow.”

“Yes,” Hongbin replied and he could not stop the irritation that rang in his voice as he continued, “he’s stuck running through new drill formations with his _captain_.”

Soyou raised a brow as she too drew a card, “You seem to hold no love for his captain.”

“No, I do not,” Hongbin replied, “he is an unreasonable man who’s held a foolish resentment towards Hyuk ever since he saved me.”

“Saved you?” Kyungsoo asked, a curious tilt to his head.

“Oh,” Boa responded before Hongbin could, “you don’t know the story yet, do you?”

Kyungsoo shook his head.

“Well,” Boa continued, “some time ago, when the squad elites had barely been hired assassins broke in, their target was of course the lord. They were able to stop one of the assassins almost right away but the other one, once he realized he would not be able to fulfill his mission turned his eye instead to the next best prize, the lord’s favored.”

Kyungsoo’s startled at the information, “And Hyuk, he saved you from the assassin?”

“Yes,” Hongbin replied as he momentarily set his cards down, “I saw the assassin charging at me and I knew that none of the lord’s guards would make a move to help me, they were hired to protect the lord and no one else. I truly did think I was going to die but then Hyuk—”

Hongbin paused and he couldn’t have stopped the warm smile that tugged at his lips if he’d tried, he was among friends after all and in the consort house was one of the few times he allowed his mask of perfection to slip.

“Before I knew it Hyuk was there deflecting the assassin’s sword and then running him through. He saved me and even when his captain struck him for it, he did not back down, only insisted that he had a chance to save a man’s life—my life. He did not regret it.”

Hongbin’s focus had gone hazy as he sifted through his memories. It had not been the first day he had ever met Hyuk, but it was certainly the day that made him take notice of the young guard, the day that Hyuk had been assigned as _his_ guard, the day that Hyuk become a permanent fixture in his life, the day that had led to what they had now…

So caught up was he that it took Hongbin a few moments longer to realize that the other consorts had gone silent around him. He shook off the haze of memory and focused back on the present and the scene that greeted him was an odd one.

The consorts around him looked to have completely forgotten their game, cards held limply in their hands as they instead only stared at him. Their gazes were intense, a curious mix of questioning but also probing, and out of all of them it was Kyungsoo’s eyes that first widened in something like realization. Despite that, it was Boa who spoke first.

“Hongbin,” she said eyes glinting and voice almost trembling in her excitement, “those gifts we had spoken about earlier, did you finally—did you finally let yourself have one?”

Hongbin’s mind screeched to a halt. No one knew about he and Hyuk and they had made sure to keep it that way. They’d both been so careful and Hongbin was usually never this careless but he was among friends and he had been reliving the past and his expression—it must have given him away. To someone as perceptive as Boa, it must have.

He needed to say something, find a way to laugh off the question, convince them otherwise—

But Hongbin was silent for too long and to Boa, his silence spoke more than his words ever would.

“You did!” she exclaimed, eyes dancing as she threw her cards on the table, forgetting their game entirely. “You did! I know that look!”

“Ha!” Soyou exclaimed next, “I knew it! Pay up Dasom.”

Hongbin sputtered, finally able to form words, “You took bets!” He watched as Dasom sighed and grabbed her coin purse, depositing a few coins into Soyou’s already considerable pile.

“Damn right we did,” Soyou said turning to look expectantly at Boa.

“You too?” Hongbin asked, betrayal in his voice.

“If it’s any consolation,” Boa said as she threw her coins Soyou’s way, “my bet was that you would get together far earlier than this, Dasom’s bet wasn’t until another month or so.”

“How—how is that any consolation! You—”

“You and your guard,” Kyungsoo interrupted usually soft voice eager, fingers already toying with his ring, “you’re _together.”_ There was an almost hopefulness in the young consort’s eyes.

Hongbin lowered his gaze, a sudden shyness overtaking him, “Yes…we are. Well, as much as we can be, really.”

“That’s—“ Kyungsoo began, fingers wrapping tight around his ring, “I’m happy for you Hongbin.”

Hongbin looked up then, at the genuinely happy faces of the consorts around him, no judgement, no shock, just genuine happiness, for _him._

“Okay, okay,” Boa spoke through the silence, “now, on to the question we all truly want to know.” She smirked, eyes glinting and Hongbin already knew her words would not bode well, _again_.

“How is the young guard’s bed?”

Kyungsoo’s eyes widened once more, this time in shock, but he grinned just as mischievously as Boa was as Soyou let out a whoop, Dasom smiling wide as they all leaned forward, eager for Hongbin’s answer.

And Hongbin for all his years as a consort, for all the years he’d been trained to look at acts of pleasure in an almost methodical way—he couldn’t stop himself, he flushed, pale skin going warm as he looked down, avoiding all their excited eyes. But his mind was a traitor because it went to all the things that Hongbin tried to vehemently _not_ think about most days.

What it would be like if Hyuk—if Hyuk _did_ take him to bed.

Panted breaths and muffled groans, skin hot over where they touched—

But the young guard had never, he’d never—

 “I— we—we haven’t—”

There was silence, until the creak of Boa’s chair as she leaned back into it sounded out. “Well, that was not the answer I expected.”

“I,” Hongbin paused, voice quiet and still not looking up, “I _am_ still an untouched, by no one other than our lord that is.”

And Hongbin wondered, if _that_ was the reason Hyuk did not say anything.

More quiet. Soyou’s voice this time. “Do you _want_ to remain an untouched?”

“The way you were looking at him as he practiced a few months ago tells me no.” Boa answered for him, but her voice was not accusing.

“We…haven’t spoken of it. He hasn’t said anything—I—sometimes Is wonder if it’s—because—”

“He’s waiting for you,” Dasom interrupted. Hongbin’s gaze flicked over to her. “Hyuk is a good man Hongbin, he’s never looked as _any_ of us any differently and he looks at _you_ — well he looks at you like you hung the stars. He knows what our life is, what we’re forced to give in exchange for a house and food. Maybe, just _maybe_ he wants to let you give it freely for once.” She looked down, eyes downcast and Hongbin knew she was once again thinking of the past she never spoke of.

“I don’t know,” Hongbin halfway groaned as he flung the cards he somehow _still_ held onto the table. “I’ve _thought_ about it but we haven’t spoken of it, I don’t know how to bring it up without being too—and I—I just don’t know.”

“I don’t think how you bring it up will be much of a problem,” Kyungsoo replied one eyebrow raised and a smirk tugging at a corner of his lips, “I saw the way he looked at you _arms_ when you changed overrobes before going into town a few weeks back. I sincerely doubt he’d have any qualms in how you proposed to show him more. In fact, I think you could walk right up to him and say something along the lines of ‘Hyuk, I order you to my bed because I’ve been thinking of fucking you for the past few days’ and the young guard would trip in his haste to get to your bedroom.”

There was a stunned silence at Kyungsoo’s words before Boa cackled, the rest of the consorts joining in right after, Hongbin one of them.

“Our Kyungsoo has a much fouler mouth than we’d known, eh,” Boa said in between laughs. Kyungsoo, meanwhile, only flushed under the attention, but there was that same mischievous glint in his eye as before. In the time that Kyungsoo had been there it seemed like he had begun finally opening up a little more beyond the shy nervousness he’d first exhibited. It seemed like there was more of a sarcastic humor in the man than any of them had first expected. It was good to see this side of him.

“Well,” Hongbin said as he fought to bring his laughter under control, “I will certainly keep that in mind.”

“See that you do,” Kyungsoo replied grin wide, “now if you don’t mind, I’d like to try winning some of the money that Soyou currently robbed me of.”

“Hey! It’s not my fault I’m better at cards than anyone and yet you _still_ play with me.”

The table devolved into laughter once more and Hongbin somehow felt almost lighter now that the people around him _knew._ He knew that with them he would not have to worry about his secret being revealed, if anything they would help him keep it.

***

But over the next few days the consorts’ words stuck to Hongbin’s mind like honey because he still hadn’t—he and Hyuk they still hadn’t—

Hyuk let his hands wander as they kissed sometimes—warm down his back and tight at his hip—but he never pushed, never asked for anything more and Hongbin had not known if it was because he was waiting for Hongbin to offer or if it was because Hongbin was a—

But no, Dasom was right Hyuk did not think that way, he never had.

_We are consorts yes, but that does not mean that life does not hold gifts for us as well_

He’d let himself have Hyuk in the first place…maybe it was time he let himself something else he wanted as well.

Because for once in his life Hongbin found that he also wanted, he actually _wanted._

Wanted to know what Hyuk’s deep voice sounded breathy and strained, what his lips felt like as they seared fire over every inch of Hongbin’s skin, what expression Hyuk would wear as he slid inside him.

 _Gods,_ he wanted to know what Hyuk _tasted_ like.

He _wanted._

So the next time that Hyuk kissed him in a dark corner of the estate, the next time his lips found Hongbin’s own but his hands stopped at his hips Hongbin let him know just how much he wanted.

He backed Hyuk up against the wall kissed and kissed him, insistent, let his hands wander to all the places he hadn’t allowed himself before, pressed closer, closer still until their bodies were flush and there was no breath left in their lungs and when Hyuk pulled back, breathing harsh and pupils blown wide on a question he would not voice, Hongbin only said,

“Yes.”

***

It was in the consort house, their first time.

They had shown up the day before, Hyuk his ever present shadow as they’d gone to speak to Boa.

She’d taken one look at them and even before Hongbin had taken Hyuk’s hand in his own—a blatant display of why exactly he’d come here—there’d already been a twinkle in her eye, even if there was a hint of sadness as well.

“Of course,” she had said, her voice oh so kind, “we can give you tomorrow night.”

They’d both nodded their thanks and the following night had arrived both too rapidly and not soon enough and it left them standing in one of the smaller rooms deep within the consort house.  One with a cot pushed up against a corner and small jar of what Hongbin assumed was the oil they’d need beside it.

But whatever nerves they’d had coming in—whatever last minute tension as they’d walked into the consort house side by side but with eyes anywhere but each other—they were erased the second Hongbin closed the door behind them.

No sooner had the door slid shut than they were in each other’s arms, kissing frantically as they halfway stumbled to the bed.

The back of Hongbin’s knees hit the cot sooner than Hongbin had anticipated and then they were both collapsing in a graceless heap atop it but it only made them giggle and laugh between kisses.

It was a breathless affair as their lips ran soft over each other over and over again and despite their initial frenzy, for a moment they didn’t do much more than that; Hongbin relishing in the fact that he could feel arousal burning low in his stomach, at the fact that he could feel himself _wanting_ this, more than he’d thought he’d _ever_ want something like this.

As he lay under Hyuk he wasn’t just complacent, hadn’t just resigned himself to whatever would happen with the same passivity he’d always convinced himself was _content_ with his lord.

No, Hongbin could feel the frantic edges of lust start to claw at him as his hand roamed over Hyuk’s body, as his lips found the younger man’s neck and shoulders to bruise kisses into it. As his hand rushed just as frantically at Hyuk’s robes as he Hyuk did at his until finally they lay bare, skin against heated skin, legs tangled.

Hongbin knew that they’d soon need the capped bottle of oil on the floor but but for now it was enough to move against each other, to _feel_ each other and feel the pleasure that rippled from their tongues in moans as they rutted.

But soon even that was not enough.

“I’ll—I’ll get the oil,” Hongbin said breathlessly, and he was just about to disentangle himself from Hyuk when Hyuk abruptly rolled them over so that he was the one trapped beneath Hongbin. His legs came up to wrap around Hongbin’s waist and the message was so clear even without the way that he rocked up into him with a whimper and said “ _please,_ ” that Hongbin stilled, eyes wide.

Hyuk turned his head to the side then, a flush painting his cheeks.

“I’ve never done this before.”

If possible Hongbin’s eyes grew even wider.

Hyuk might have been young but he was a soldier this couldn’t have been his first time—

“You’ve—you’ve never…?”

Hyuk turned back to him, comprehension at Hongbin’s words dawning over his features as he replied hastily. “Oh, no! I’ve been with women,” he said looking away sheepishly, “I’ve just—I’ve never been with a man.”

Oh.

_Oh._

He’d never been with a man, this would be his first experience and he was willing to offer himself just like that?

Did Hyuk even know exactly what it was he was offering to—to Hongbin?

To a _consort?_

Hongbin could feel his shock war with his ever heightening arousal, the mere thought of what Hyuk was offering lighting fire in his veins.

But still, no—he was—he was—

“Hyuk—you—I—” he swallowed, “I’m a _consort_. You—don’t have to do this—”

He cut himself off, suddenly self-conscious and awkward as he’d never felt in the bedchamber. His eyes looking anywhere but Hyuk beneath him.

He’d managed to forget, that he _was_ a consort, and for once the knowledge weighed heavy within him like Hongbin never let it, hidden always under his veneer of _content_.

But then Hyuk’s hand was at his chin, tilting his face to meet his gaze once more, eyes defiant and understanding all in one as they bored into Hongbin’s own. He leaned up to kiss him, legs tightening around Hongbin’s waist as he rocked up again, voice determined.

“ _Please,_ I want to… I _want_ to, with you.”

Hongbin’s eyes were still wide, still a little shocked but he nodded, desire burning within him so fiercely he _ached._

But his hand still shook as he grabbed the oil, as he uncapped it and spilled entirely more than was necessary onto shaky fingers. He parted Hyuk’s thighs, a finger at his entrance, stopped just short of breaching him.

“Are you—are you _sure_ ,” because he needed to _know._

But all Hyuk said was, “ _Yes_.”

So Hongbin prepared him, as thorough as he’d ever been with himself and if at first Hyuk had grimaced ever so slightly at the unfamiliar sensation all too soon he was letting loose breathy little sighs as Hongbin worked him open. By the time Hongbin added a third finger Hyuk was outright writhing, face pink and pupils wide as he surged up to mash his lips to Hongbin’s and gasp out.

“Now—please, now.”

So Hongbin fumbled with the oil once more and then he was poised above Hyuk, one hand shaky against the bed and the other lining himself up. Hyuk’s legs wrapped around him again urging him in and then he was thrusting forward into the tight of Hyuk’s body.

It was molten heat and fire and achingly slow friction as he steadily pushed in and Hongbin was seeing stars and there wasn’t enough air in his lungs and Hyuk was arching beneath him—

Hyuk made a choked noise, hands coming to scrabble at Hongbin’s back and Hongbin only had a brief moment of coherence to be thankful that Hyuk kept his nails short before he was sheathed fully.

Hongbin lowered his forehead to Hyuk’s, panted breaths mingling.

It felt—it felt—there were no words to describe it.

To be fully in Hyuk like this, to feel as if they were one person instead of two.

Hyuk made another whimpered sound before he dug his fingers into the muscle of Hongbin’s back once again and with a voice made ragged said hot onto Hongbin’s lips.

“Hongbin—Hongbin, _move._ ”

And Hongbin did, slow at first, because he knew what those first few moments of adjustment felt like  but faster when Hyuk’s legs tightened even further round him, faster when one of Hyuk’s hand fisted in the sheets below him, faster when Hyuk lunged up and kissed him savagely. Faster still when Hongbin reached down to grab Hyuk in hand and Hyuk’s whimpers and moans suddenly became desperate repetitions of.

“ _Yesyesyesyes, Hongbin_ please _”_

Hyuk was beautiful and he was _breathtaking_ and he was letting Hongbin _have_ him, in every sense of the word, not just carnal.

And Hongbin still didn’t know if Hyuk _really_ knew what that meant to him, that he’d offered his body so willingly, as if Hongbin was his equal, as if he hadn’t been taught his entire life that he would never be the one to _take._

But his mind was ripped away from rational thought when Hyuk gasped and choked out a sound that resembled Hongbin’s name, threw his head back and with a mouth wide open and eyes shut tight, came hot over Hongbin’s hand.

And while that was a sight in and of itself _nothing_ could have prepared Hongbin for what he felt as Hyuk clenched around him; the heat of the soldier’s body searing into him as he felt pleasure spike through him like lighting. It made him moan shamelessly and ram into Hyuk one last time, releasing deep within.

Silence, only filled with panted breaths.

“Hongbin….?” Hyuk finally began, unsteadily, “Can you…”

He gestured vaguely down to where they were still joined, Hongbin having collapsed halfway onto him when he’d peaked.

“Oh! Here let me—”

He began pulling away only to have Hyuk wince in discomfort.

“Forgive me,” Hongbin chimed again, hands coming up to Hyuk’s face to try and smooth away the discomfort written there. “This is the part I dislike too, you’re always so sensitive afterwards—”

And his lord was never as attentive when he’d already spent—

Hongbin stilled, wanting to bite back the words as soon as he’d spoken them. He’d just brought to the forefront of his mind that he shouldn’t be here, that he shouldn’t be doing this, that Hongbin body wasn’t his own to make decisions for himself like this.

That he was a _consort_ and that he’d never belong, never _really_ belong to Hyuk because his body belonged to the same man that Hyuk’s blade did.

But something must have shown on his face because suddenly Hyuk was there again, lips warm and pliant on his, as if the soldier could chase away his thoughts with just the taste of his lips.

It worked, mostly.

But Hongbin still needed to say something.

He might not be his own person, but he wanted to give something, _anything,_ to the man beneath him who’d just offered his body and heart so willingly _._ So he kissed back all the harder and when they finally separated, lips swollen and faces flushed he said,

“I may go back to his bed, my body may _belong_ to him because he paid for it but when I am with you, there is no one else. Do you understand me Hyuk? For this brief moment and for whatever moments we can steal away in the future, I am _yours,_ no one else’s.”

He knew his voice was bordering on desperate, that this affirmation was as much for him as it was for the soldier under him.

He _needed_ this, because as much as he’d been content now that he knew Hyuk, now that he knew what it was to truly _want_ and to—

_Love_

Now, he needed more than just _content,_ he needed a _choice,_ and this here—what they had even if it was nothing but secret and fleeting like hummingbird wings, it was a _choice_ and it was _his._

But Hyuk only smiled at him, fingers gentle as they brushed sweat plastered hair away from his temple, “No, in these moments you belong to no one Hongbin. You are free.”

Hongbin’s eyes were watering and before he could stop them tears he hadn’t shed in years were falling onto Hyuk’s cheeks below but he only kissed Hyuk fiercely and whispered “ _yes_ ” a thousand times onto his lips.

***

That night changed things, in a way Hongbin was helpless to stop.

Hyuk stood a little closer to him than was necessary sometimes and Hongbin knew that he should tell him no, that regardless of his guard’s status there was only so much he could brush against him as they walked before people became wary.

But Hyuk would only smile and laugh and Hongbin should tell him to stop that too, because no guard looked at their ward like _that_ — but Hongbin would find himself too caught in the sound to say anything else.

So, they became a little reckless, maybe.

So that hurried kisses in dark corners became hurried kisses in semi-lonely hallways; so that Hyuk would sometimes be missing from his post at Hongbin’s bedroom door come nightfall because he was invited _inside_ Hongbin’s room instead.

And Hongbin should really tell Hyuk to stop, to stop looking at him like that, to stop embracing him from behind when no one was looking, to stay _outside_ his bedroom door—

But Hongbin had grown too warm, too caught up in Hyuk’s smiles, his laughter, the way Hyuk’s body felt against his, the little sounds Hyuk made beneath him, and the way Hyuk looked at him from above.

He was too happy.                                                                                    

***

Hyuk had accompanied Hongbin on a walk around their lord’s estate and the walk had ended with them sat at the edge of the east wing pond shaded by the camphor trees around them. Hongbin had initially come here to read but his books lay unopened in the grass and instead Hyuk was teaching him how to skip rocks.

He was dreadful at it and despite Hyuk’s reassurances that he would get it, Hongbin was _not_ in fact, getting it.

“Here,” Hyuk said, just watch how I flick my wrist.”

Hyuk picked up a nice flat rock, flicked it and then they watched it bounce three, four—five times before it finally sunk.

Hongbin sighed but he picked up his umpteenth rock nonetheless.

“Okay , now just—flick your wrist the way I did, okay?”

Hongbin gave _another_ over-dramatic sigh but he threw the rock anyway and as he’d already predicted the rock only splashed loudly in the water before sinking immediately.

He turned to Hyuk who was trying, and failing, to stifle his laughter. “Wow,” he said, voice shaky, “you’re _really_ not good at this,” and then his resolve broke and he fell into that deep laughter that Hongbin had grown to love so much.

“Oh, shut up,” Hongbin said, mock irritation in his voice as he aimed a playful shove Hyuk’s way.

Hyuk only dodged out of the way before his smile turned devious and he said, “Make me.”

And Hongbin knew that look, knew that he shouldn’t play into it, not so out in the open—

But Hyuk’s grin was infectious and Hongbin knew he wore one to match as he pounced and Hyuk let himself be caught and then Hongbin was backing him up against the scratchy bark of one of the trees and kissing him breathless. Bodies tight against each other and hands roaming so that the rustling of fabric accompanied the gurgle of water besides them.

In the end it was only Hyuk’s awareness that saved them.

He grabbed Hongbin and hauled him backwards tumbling them both into the brush around the pond and by a miracle, not into the pond itself.

That was when Hongbin finally noticed, the heavy footsteps of approaching guards.

He tensed, Hyuk going perfectly still besides them as the guards passed by and it was only after they’d rounded a corner of the east wing that Hongbin let himself breath.

They slowly got to their knees, Hyuk’s features pulled taught.

“We should…be more careful,” the young guard said and Hongbin knew he was right, knew he should agree, knew that they’d been getting reckless but—

There were twigs and tufts of dry grass stuck in Hyuk’s hair from when he’d thrown them into the foliage and Hongbin knew he probably looked no better, fine robes covered in dirt—and maybe it had to do with his rushing heart and panicked nerves but suddenly the whole situation was hysterical.

He laughed, mirth spilling from his lips as Hyuk looked at him in surprise but Hongbin only reached over to start pulling twigs from Hyuk’s hair.

Hyuk laughed along with him, “Well you’re no better,” he said as he reached over to Hongbin and started to comb through his hair as well, pulling out tufts of grass.

The stream gurgled besides them and all they could do was laugh.

***

It had been a sunny day, the first time the captain suspected, and it had been entirely Hongbin’s fault.

It was high noon, the sweltering heat of the sun unforgiving as the rest of the guard elites ran protective drills around their lord’s estate. Hyuk had, as his lord had commanded, accompanied Hongbin on a trip to town and back and now they sat under the shade of another tree as Hongbin indulged in some poetry writing.

After the third or fourth time that the Captain had ran by them, sweat stained dark into his tunic and dripping down the harsh disapproving lines of his face, he had finally given voice to what Hongbin knew had been on his tongue for months already.

“Must be nice,” the captain said as he stopped in front of them, chest heaving from exertion, “to be pet dog to the lord’s whore—oh excuse me, his _favored_. I sure as hell would love to sit in the shade doing nothing rather than running drills like the _actual_ soldier I’m paid to be instead of a nursemaid.”

Hyuk tensed beside him, ready to spring to his feet in an instant, but Hongbin’s halting hand gesture stopped him, even if he could still see the stiffness in Hyuk’s frame.

Hongbin knew what Hyuk would have objected to and it wasn’t the fact that the older man had called him useless, insulting his pride and honor as a soldier.

 “I trust Captain, that you have better things to do than harass my personal guard. As you said, that is what our lord pays you for, is it not? I’d hate to see you reprimanded for failing to do your job, _again_.”

The captain paused, body going rigid as his face distorted into a blotchy mask of anger. He stalked forward. “Listen you filthy excuse for a whore and pathetic excuse of a man, just because you’re the lord’s bitch doesn’t mean I’m going to sit here and—”

Hyuk was up in an instant, hands already halfway to drawing his blade, voice hard on fury.

“You will _not_ speak to him that way—”

Hongbin’s own hand came up again—quick as lightning even without Hyuk’s years of training—to grab at the shaking hand at Hyuk’s sword hilt.

And thinking back, Hongbin knows that that must have been the moment the captain had _known._

Because as much as Hongbin had kept his voice cold and calm, had kept his face the placid mask of neutrality he’d always been taught to wield, had barely looked up from his paper and ink below him—

He’d kept his hand on Hyuk’s own, too familiar in their months of contact, too familiar in Hyuk’s disgust in the way his captain spoke of him and of the rest of the consorts of their lord.

“That is enough, Captain. I may be my Lord’s whore, but I do hold a place in his household and by extension so does my guard. I suggest you return to your drills as the lord is due soon to inquire about their progress. It would not do for him to see you so blatantly ignoring your duties _._ ”

The captain spat in Hongbin’s direction, wad of spittle landing directly in front of him but Hongbin’s hand had only tightened on Hyuk’s as the burly man finally turned to leave them in peace.

Hyuk sat back down, a statue of silent tension and rage beside him until it was Hongbin who finally spoke.

He sighed, put his brush down and turned to Hyuk, offering him one of his fond smiles.

“You think I have not heard worse,” he asked, tone light.

Hyuk’s answer was quick, voice still taught, “You shouldn’t have to. You should never have to.”

Hongbin only gave a small huff of amusement before he turned back to his poetry but he could not stop himself from glancing up when he heard his lord’s voice soon after.

When he glanced up the lord was making his way from his household to the captain, but the captain, instead of looking towards their lord, was instead staring straight at Hongbin.

It unnerved him, but Hongbin only stared back, gaze unflinching. The captain was the first too look away as his lord finally neared.

Hongbin shrugged off the faint shiver that ran through him and then returned to his poetry.

***

It happened a few weeks later.

They were in the orange orchards again, tumbled into the grass, Hyuk a solid weight atop Hongbin as he kissed and kissed him.

Hongbin’s hands were already roaming into Hyuk’s robes and he suddenly he wanted nothing more than to make love underneath the shade of the trees and the bright of the sun that peaked through the foliage; the sweet scent of orange blossoms all around them as Hyuk slipped inside him.

But he had grown too relaxed, too careless in the sepia haze of their love because suddenly Hyuk was yanked from him, cold rushing to the spots where the touch of his body had already seared warmth into Hongbin’s skin.

Hongbin was startled but sat up in an instant, fast enough to see Hyuk being held by the upper arms by two armed swordsmen who dragged him away kicking and struggling.

Hongbin’s mind whirred. Bandits? Robbers? They were not that far off from the town but attacks like this did happen occasionally in the outskirts and backroads.

Hongbin’s gaze flicked to the sword that Hyuk had left leaning against one of the orange trees; if he could just—

And then another figure stepped into Hongbin’s line of sight.

The captain, with a cruel, cruel smile on his face.

“Knew the whelp was trying out the lord’s goods.”

Hongbin’s eyes widened and he darted a look back to Hyuk, almost instantly recognizing the faces of the swordsmen as part of his lord’s guard, even if they were not dressed in their usual garb.

The captain laughed.

“Times up, _favored._ ”

At those words Hongbin’s world crashed around him.

This was it.

They’d been caught.

Everything they had—the moments they’d shared, the brief moments of true _happiness_ in Hongbin’s life—

It was all done.

What they shared was over because now his lord would _know_ , Hongbin was no longer his untouched.

There was panic stabbing through his chest yet still Hongbin stood. His knees did not shake, his chin was held high and his stare was still unwavering.

He had been trained well, after all.

“Captain, you—”

His voice had not even shook, but suddenly the captain’s fist shot out, Hongbin saw bright stars and then his world went dark.

***

He came to in bursts of noise and color.

Noise—men speaking animatedly— their voices dipping in and out of his hearing, so that their sentences were fragmented and Hongbin could not so much hear words as just make out waves of sound that came and went like a lapping tide

Color—soft, like watercolor spreading on paper—slowly bleeding back into his sight as he blinked heavy eyelids open and the darkness that had been his only vision began to recede.

Everything came slowly but what immediately came into focus was the throbbing ache at the side of his temple. It pulsed waves of dull pain into a head that already felt stuffed with cotton. There was a ringing in his right ear, and he could feel the scratchy dried crust of what he assumed was blood all the way down his cheek—

But suddenly all those details barely registered in Hongbin’s awareness because before him, on the other side of the room, was Hyuk, slumped in the loose grip of the same two men who’d grabbed him in the orchard. Slumped because without the support of the two guards, Hongbin was sure, he would not have been able to stand.

The young guard was beaten bloody, looked barely conscious. His left eye was already a purple swollen shut mess, nose oozing rivulets of blood that still dripped onto the wood floor beneath, bottom lip split and hung open, exposing teeth frothy pink with even more blood.

Hongbin froze, remembered everything in an instant and before he could stop himself he was already surging forward.

The room spun wildly, and he was saved from splaying onto the floor only by the hands of the guards that he belatedly realized held _him._

His lord—one of the voices Hongbin now realized had been talking—turned at the commotion, but his face was not the cold mask of fury that Hongbin was already expecting. It was something else, something less angry and more…disappointed.

“Ah, Hongbin, you’re awake.”

He motioned to the guards holding Hongbin to release him even as turned to speak to the man beside him _._

“Whatever compromising position you found them in _Captain,_ I do not recall giving you permission to strike him. His entire right temple down to his cheekbone is now swollen. I shall be cross if that wound scars his skin.”

Hongbin tensed where he was kneeled, his lord _knew_ , but why—why wasn’t he angry, why wasn’t he shouting, railing that Hongbin would have taken another to bed—

Hyuk uttered a halfhearted groan and all gazes in the room were drawn to him as he coughed fresh blood to join the old onto the floor.

The lord’s gaze turned to stone as he looked down at Hyuk, lips curling up in contempt as his eyes danced with a cold ire. “Disgusting,” he uttered, “that floor will have to be cleaned. Thoroughly.”

No, he _was_ angry. Hyuk’s state was proof enough of that.

And it was also at Hyuk’s state that Hongbin’s heart jumpstarted in his chest, frozen blood starting to sluggishly circulate once again, thoughts starting to whirl with it.

His lord knew, his lord was angry, but why wasn’t Hongbin also beaten senseless, why was the lord berating the captain for striking him, why—

The thoughts that had barely begun to move, suddenly _raced_ , becoming a jangled mess that pulsed with pain at his head but no—

  _No._

He clenched his fists, forced himself to breath. This wasn’t the time for him to panic, he needed to stay calm, needed to figure out what was happening, what his lord was planning.

One look at the lord’s face and Hongbin knew that Hyuk’s life depended on it.

So Hongbin clasped his hands atop his legs, bowed his head and in the docile tone he only ever reserved for the lord, he spoke.

“My Lord.”

It was not a question, not a statement either.

“Oh Hongbin,” the lord began, face morphing from ire back to disappointment, “I know you must be questioning your own fate now, aren’t you my doll.”

The lord walked towards him, suddenly there was a hand cupping Hongbin’s cheek and it took everything Hongbin had not to cringe at the contact.

“I blame myself Hongbin,” the lord began, “in my haste to keep you safe I entrusted you into the hands of…” he grimaced, face going stony once again, “…a morally dubious man. I should have foreseen this, that he would try to… _corrupt you._ You have served me well all these years Hongbin but docile and pliant your personality has always been, it is no wonder a brash young soldier would so easily sway you. You are tainted yes, but you have also served me well, I have grown fond of you Hongbin and I would…forgive such tarnishes if only for that. Besides, no one outside this room need know that your value has diminished.

“So fear not, I know where the blame lies. You are guileless as ever in this situation. Although, I must admit, I am disappointed,” he sighed, “but much like a child, one cannot be blame you for the weakness of your constitution. Perhaps a few weeks without your customary trips to town or without the gifts I usually procure for you will impress my disappointment.”

His lord gave his cheek one final pat before turning away.

There was a split second of stillness as the lord’s words sunk in, as Hongbin understood his lack of anger—

And then then there was only Hongbin’s anger, fury flushing through him as he’d never felt before. His hands, still loose at his lap fisted so tightly that he felt warm blood seep where his nails dug into the soft flesh of his palms.

_He thinks me a doll._

_He thinks I have always been his doll, that I have only ever had the personality of one, that I would open my legs for the first man to aim a smile my way and ask._

For the first time in his life Hongbin felt hatred for the man before him.

He’d been trained to feel gratefulness—that the man who eventually bought him should give him a life in exchange for the services of Hongbin’s body—but Hongbin had never felt that, the closest he’d come to feel was an almost passive partiality.

But now, Hongbin felt _anger_ , a pulsing red hot anger that made his blood roar and his heart race, that this man—who’d called Hongbin his favored, who’d bedded him for years—would know nothing of him, that he would think Hongbin nothing but a blank spineless doll. Would think that Hongbin would not _choose_ Hyuk, that Hyuk had to have somehow—

“Now as for _this..._ man,” the lord said, repugnance evident once more as he looked at the swordsman—

But no.

Hongbin forced himself to breath, to unclench his hands and _breath._

His anger, no matter how justified, did not have a place  right now. So Hongbin bit it down, made it small and forced it away, because there was someone more important than his anger at the moment.

Hyuk.

He needed to protect Hyuk, and that meant he needed to protect himself too.

So he made himself even smaller, meeker, he shrunk in on himself and bowed down low and made his voice pathetic, broken, as if he was choking back tears instead of red hot anger.

“My Lord—” his voice, trembled, broke “my Lord you are merciful, too merciful, to forgive the faults of someone as weak as I. I recognize now that it is only your presence, your disappointment, that have opened my eyes and made clear my foolishness, my gullibility to…let myself be swayed by so indecent a man. I would beg your forgiveness if I thought myself worthy of it, if you had not already shown such kindness and granted it already.”

“Hush now Hongbin,” the lord replied, indulging smile aimed at him once more, “you are forgiven, now please, retire, rest and think about the mistakes you have committed here.”

Hongbin unbent from his bow, brought a hand up to his mouth to stifle a sob and another to dab at eyes made watery.

“Yes my Lord, yes, of course.”

The lord nodded to one of the guards besides Hongbin no doubt meaning for him to escort him to his chambers, but before the guard could lead him away Hongbin asked, “My Lord, I would ask…”

The lord looked at him expectantly once more.

“Of the man who,” Hongbin shuddered, forced back more tears, “tainted my judgement, what will become of him?”

His lord’s eyes hardened almost imperceptibly, “I would think that would not concern you overly Hongbin, considering.”

“My Lord,” Hongbin stuttered, eyes wide and innocent, “ you misunderstand me, I only wish to know whether I shall ever have to gaze at his face again. It would bring me turmoil, only deepen the shame I already feel.”

His lord’s eyes were quick to soften, “You need not worry then, even if I were to let the wretch live, it would not have been anywhere near you, I would not bring your already weakened self such turmoil. Would not have your past mistakes haunt you.”

Hongbin breathed an exaggerated sigh of relief.

“You are—you are too good Lord.”

The lord smiled once more and Hongbin’s smile of return was trembling but no less stunning.

“Rest now Hongbin.”

Hongbin bowed his head and turned, followed the guard as he led him away, but all the way back to his room his mind was already beginning to form the plan that would save Hyuk’s life.

His lord was planning Hyuk’s death, of that Hongbin was now certain, but if it cost him his own life Hongbin would make sure his lord would fail.

***

Hongbin did not sleep that night, he planned, and as dawn rose he knew already what he would do.

It took a single day of preparation, a talk with some of the lord’s attendees he knew he could trust— where he found out that Hyuk was due to be killed in three days’ time, but not before he was tortured—a trip to the consort house—where the looks of sympathy had been almost stifling—and a _long_ talk with Boa.

By the end of the talk there was fire in Boa’s eyes and the same determination Hongbin knew must have shown in his own. There was steel in her voice as she explained to Soyou and Dasom and Kyungsoo—the only other consorts they trusted with their plan—and once she had explained there was the same look in their eyes as well.

An almost buckling wave of gratitude swept through Hongbin then, that they would help him even at their own risk.

But Boa only took his hand, “You have chance, not many of us get that. We will help you as you’ve helped us.”

Hongbin’s smile was grim but it was there.

A single day and Hongbin was ready.

***

Hongbin waited in the indent of a doorway, breath held fast.

 _It will work Hongbin,_ the consort mother had told him as she squeezed his hands before he’d come here to wait, _it will work._

Hongbin prayed it did.

He heard running footsteps from the opposite hallway, and to Dasom’s credit she did not so much as glance at him.

She skidded around the corner and ran straight to the guards standing posted at the door to Hyuk’s room turned cell.

“Come quickly,” she said, pausing, chest heaving, eyes wild, “there’s a fire in the south wing! They think it’s an attack!”

The guards visibly hesitated but it was only momentarily, they were the lord’s elites, the lord’s chambers were in the south wing and their first priority was to him.

Hongbin waited until he could no longer hear their running footsteps before he dashed forward, stolen key shaking in his hands as he fumbled at the lock

Finally, the door was opened.

“Hongbin?” was Hyuk’s first word to him since they’d been separated, only slightly slurred by his still swollen lip, left eye wide in surprise as he stood from where he’d been crouched against a wall.

He had new bruises, the ratty robe they’d exchanged his guard’s garb for doing nothing to hide the purple blue mottling of his chest or the way his knees were scraped raw and bloody or how he favored one leg as he finally stood up, the ankle of the other slightly swollen and red. The original bruises at his cheek he’d gotten the day before were already turning a sickly green and there was new blood crusted to a sticky mess at his left temple, flaky rivulets extending past his neck and down to his collarbone and—

Hongbin froze, barely held back a gasp.

Because the dried blood ran over angry and raised black charred lines at Hyuk’s neck.

They’d branded him, _very_ recently, the burnt flesh forming the sign for traitor in blistering strokes.

“What are you doing here?” Hyuk said, eyes flicking to the door behind Hongbin as if he expected guards to have followed him in.

But Hongbin shook himself of his shock, there was no time for that now.

“What does it look like I’m doing, I’m going to free you.” He replied as he made his way hastily over.

“Hongbin no,” Hyuk hissed, backing up against the wall as if that would prevent Hongbin from drawing any nearer, “get out! Get out now! If any of the guards find you here—”

Hongbin drew the knife he’d brought with him from his sleeve, yanking Hyuk’s bound hands forward so he could cut through the twine that held them together.

“I will _not_ leave you here to die.”

Hyuk’s hands covered Hongbin’s own the moment the binding fell away, “Hongbin _no._ You’re _safe_ , that’s all that matters, the lord is a fool but you played your part well and —”

Hongbin yanked his hands from Hyuk’s, tears starting to collect in his eyes, far too many emotions contained in them. Anger and fear and panic and hope and with it all such a shade of love that it made the content of Hongbin’s past seem nothing but a slow agony.

“I will not leave you here to die Hyuk, I will not let you shoulder _my_ choices. What I chose to share with you, it was _my_ choice, _you_ were my choice.  I am not his doll, despite what he may think and _this_ even if it kills me, is _my choice_ and you will _let me have it._ ”

Hyuk’s eye softened, “Hongbin—”

“You told me once before that when I was with you I was free.  I was not his, I was not yours, I was my own. _I_ love you _,_ that is my choice too, and I _will not watch you die._

There was silence as Hongbin wiped furiously at his tears, angry that now of all times they chose to show themselves again, now of all times when he needed his composure the most—

Hyuk’s hands closed soft around Hongbin’s pulling them away from his eyes with an almost gentleness.

Even through Hongbin’s tear warped vision he could tell, there  was something shining in Hyuk’s gaze. Something tender and warm and almost _vulnerable—_ and Hongbin had never seen Hyuk look at him like that before—

And it hit him.

He’d never told Hyuk that.

Had never told him he loved him.

It was stupid to be flushed so suddenly in self-consciousness  when Hongbin was so sure that every action he’d taken before this would have made his love clear, had thought for certain that when he’d told Hyuk he was _his,_ that his love would have been apparent as the blazing sun on a clear summer day.

But with the way Hyuk suddenly brought his scraped hands up and swiped gently at the tears still left at Hongbin’s cheeks, with the way he kept his hands there, with the way he brought their foreheads together so that their breaths mixed but their lips did not meet—

“The firs time you held my blade, I knew, there was something about you Hongbin, something beautiful and _fierce._ But the first time you completed an advanced sequence _perfectly,_ when you stood there with steel in your hands and a smile on your face that was so genuine it made any of the others you’d given our lord seem pathetic things—that was when I knew, when you turned to me with that smile. That was when I knew I loved you.”

—maybe it hadn’t.

More tears slipped down Hyuk’s fingers as they stood there, but for once, they were tears Hongbin let fall.

***

Hyuk’s hand was sweaty in his own but Hongbin only held on tighter as they fled down the hallways of their lord’s estate. It probably spoke to Hyuk’s training more than anything, but despite his no doubt fractured ribs and swollen ankle he barely limped as Hongbin led the way.

The stomping of guards around a corner sent a bright flare of panic through him and he froze. “Shit,” he cursed before Hyuk swept them aside and into the nearest door, trying to slide it shut as quickly and quietly as possible.

They stilled, barely breathing, as they heard the guards run by.

“Do you think they know I escaped?” Hyuk whispered despite the fact that they were alone once more.

“No,” Hongbin responded just as quietly, “the fastest way to the south wing runs through the west wing where they were keeping you, but we locked the door behind us, they should not notice anything amiss.”

“But my guards will be missing?”

“They’re first priority is the lord, they will not question it.”

Hyuk nodded before slowly sliding the door open again and taking a furtive glace outside before nodding to Hongbin.

Hongbin took the lead once more as they ran.

“Where are we going?” Hyuk asked after they turned another corner.

“Boa and Kyungsoo were ones who set the fire in one of the storage areas of the south wing so that it would go unnoticed at first, then they smashed through a couple of back doors to make it look as if intruders had gotten inside. Protocol demands, after assassins got in the first time, that the lord’s guards set up a perimeter around the estate to prevent any more enemies from coming in or intruders from getting out—”

“Yes, I know that protocol,” Hyuk answered hastily, “I helped come up with it.” The young guard stopped short, the loss of momentum jarring Hongbin backwards where he still gripped Hyuk’s hand. Hyuk was looking at him a certain way again, like he’d done back in his makeshift cell, before both their emotions had swept them up.

“Hongbin every exit is going to be blocked, the perimeter formation is foolproof, there’s no way out—”

“No it’s not,” Hongbin interrupted, barreling on at Hyuk’s questioning look, “it’s not foolproof. In the north wing by the stables on the second floor there’s a window that’s low enough you can jump out onto the stable roof. Soyou already managed to sneak your sword out of the storage room they’d locked it in and drop it to the rooftop already, and if you stick close to the tile it’s hard to see you from the ground, even if the guards are close by. The stable is also close enough to the wall that you can jump to it and from there lose yourself in the woods.”

Hyuk paused before asking slowly, “How do you know this?”

Hongbin hesitated, “I…I had begun thinking lately that…I…would not want to live the rest of my life here. I began looking for a way out that wasn’t through the front gate if we—if _I_ ever needed an escape…”

Both of Hyuk’s hands were suddenly squeezing his own, eyes burning and earnest, yet all he asked was “How lately?”

Hongbin casts his eyes down, suddenly embarrassed at the fantasy that he’d built slowly up in his head the longer he spent in Hyuk’s company.

“After I met you, after we…after us.”

There was silence.

“But I would not have asked that of you,” Hongbin continued quickly, quietly, “Even if I did love you—would not have asked you to leave the guard, abandon your duty here, betray your oath, sully your honor—it was—it was just a stupid fantasy—”

“Hongbin,” Hongbin’s eyes darted back up and what greeted him was a look of utter disbelief in Hyuk’s own gaze, voice just as frantic as Hongbin’s had been at his cell. “Do you know how long I dreamt of that, of leaving? Of taking you away from here and from— _him._ But I—I would not have asked that of _you_ , would not have ripped you from the life of comfort that you had earned yourself here, not to live a hunted life with me, a mercenary the only work I would be able to pick up after having broken my oath here—”

But Hongbin had barely registered Hyuk’s words before he was already surging up and meeting Hyuk’s lips in a bruising kiss.

“Yes,” he said when they finally parted.

A smile broke across Hyuk’s lips, something shining in his eyes again, “Yes?”

“ _Yes,_ I would leave with you, I would always have left with you I, I—I _will_ leave with you—”

The guard’s smile turned blinding, only for it to be dampen almost instantaneously. “But—but you are still favored, you still have a life here, no one has seen you help me escape, no one can prove it and your lord would certainly not think it—you could still have a life here, of comfort and peace—”

Hongbin found Hyuk’s lips again, less force this time but even more emphatic somehow.

“And I would choose a thousand lifetimes of hardship with you over a life of comfort here.”

***

They made it to the south wing and it helped that Hongbin was so familiar with the lesser passageways; helped them avoid the bigger main hallways that guards still ran through.

“There!” Hongbin exclaimed, voice almost shaking with relief as he pointed to the far end of the hallway where the specific window that was their destination came into view.

They ran that much faster, spurred by their freedom so close.

They skidded to halt, almost running into the wall, Hongbin all but breaking the window frame in his haste to open it. The cool night air, laced with smoke and ash and carrying the sound of shouting guards, poured in.

“There,” Hongbin said as he gestured downward, “see, the stable roof is just close enough that you can jump down. And there! The wall is just close enough to the stable roof that you can jump on it as well.” But Hongbin’s joy was quickly snuffed when he saw Hyuk pale, his blood dirtied hands tightening on the windowpane.

“Hongbin I have a cracked rib and a twisted ankle, if I jump down this height at the moment, one or both will actually break and then it won’t matter because I will _not_ have the strength to jump the distance to the wall.”

Hyuk turned, “Hongbin _you_ go, you still have a chance—”

“No,” Hongbin was quick to interrupt, mind already scrambling to come up with a solution.

They both startled at muffled shouts further into the wing.

Guards.

“Hongbin, we don’t have much time, just—”

“No!” Hongbin hissed again, urgent, before his mind _finally_ supplied him with an answer, “I’ll lower you down, as far as I can. The distance is just _that_ much too far isn’t it? If I lower you down at least an arm’s length it should work, yes?”

Hyuk glanced outside once more, eyebrows creasing. He gave a furtive nod.

“Good, now hurry. Climb up on the ledge and grab my hands.”

Hyuk’s face was still grim but hopeful once more as he gave a quick nod before he mounted the ledge—though Hongbin did not miss the way he winced—back to the open air behind him.

Hongbin reached for his hands, held on tight, gave another nod and then slowly tipped him back. Hyuk slipped from the ledge, good foot skidding down the wall as he tried to slow his fall only to jolt to a stop regardless, body knocking against the building. He let out a hiss through grit teeth and Hongbin knew the impact had to have knocked at his cracked rib.

Hyuk dangled, his heft straining the muscles of Hongbin’s arms, veins taught as he took all of Hyuk’s considerable weight. But Hongbin’s hold stayed strong, the muscles developed by using Hyuk’s blade doing their job to aid him.

At another nod from Hyuk he began leaning out the ledge of the window, careful to not overbalance, and he was just about to ask Hyuk if the distance was short enough when his blood froze.

There were footsteps, they were getting closer and suddenly—

“What are you doing!?”

The guards they had found them.

“It’s him! It’s them!”

Hyuk’s face whipped upwards. “Hongbin what’s happening!”

_No._

_No!_

_They had been so close, their freedom was right there._

 “It’s the guards, they—”

Hyuk’s eyes widened, “Hongbin pull me back up! Now!”

The guard’s footsteps were getting closer.

 _Their freedom was right_ there—

No.

Not _theirs._

It only took a moment, a second really, the beat between a one guard’s footfall and the other.

He knew what he had to do.

“No,” Hongbin said, voice calm, even.

And that was all it took, to convey what he meant to do because suddenly Hyuk’s eyes widened and there was panic so sharp in them it hurt to look at.

“Hongbin, no.”

Hyuk was fighting to keep his voice level, fighting to stay calm even as his grip tightened to the point of pain around Hongbin’s hands.

But Hongbin was already smiling, even as tears that were becoming all too frequent began falling to land on Hyuk’s cheeks below.

Their fantasy had been sweet and brief and Hongbin had let himself believe it; and maybe in other circumstances it might have come true, but not these. Hongbin was a consort, and it seemed a life he was destined never to escape. But Hyuk had been his choice, his one choice in a lifetime of captivity and Hongbin would not, could not, ever regret that.

Hyuk was his choice, he always would be.

He let go.

“No—” Hyuk’s cry was cut short and it was only years of training and quick reflexes that let him reach with both hand and clasp at one of Hongbin’s wrist before he fell.

“Hongbin stop—”

“You have to let go Hyuk,” Hongbin spoke, calmly, though his voice was trembling and his vision was blurring, “you have to let go now.”

“No, Hongbin, I’m not leaving without you—”

“If you don’t let go now what I did will be for nothing.”

“ _No,_ Hongbin _please—”_

“There’s no time, he will not kill me, I can almost guarantee it, but if you don’t let go now _you_ will die, and if that happened Hyuk I would die along with you.”

“ _Please.”_

Hyuk’s voice was desperate, broken, and the agony his eyes radiated was breaking Hongbin’s already torn heart in two.

“ _Please, Hongbin.”_

Hyuk’s tears started then, mingling with Hongbin’s own.

“This was always my choice Hyuk, you were always my choice.”

The guards were shouting, coming nearer.

“I love you.”

Hongbin tore at Hyuk’s hands, felt his nails tear into flesh as he pried his fingers off and then Hyuk was falling but even as he was falling—

_“I will find you! I’ll come back for you, I swear!”_

But Hongbin was already turning, was already barreling into the guards behind him, anything, _anything_  to give Hyuk time.

He ran straight into a guard that was clearly not expecting him to have done so, sword turned hastily away lest he hurt the lord’s _favored._

And that was all the opportunity Hongbin needed.

He grabbed at the guard’s sword hand and twisted, a grunt of surprised pain later and the sword was falling from the guard’s limp grasp and into Hongbin’s own palm and then Hongbin was calling upon every lesson Hyuk had ever taught him. He rounded on the two other guards and the shock on their faces was almost comical as a _consort_ advanced on them with a blade held in a perfect grip and controlled swings meant to deal _damage._

But Hongbin did not last long, he did not expect too, the guards were _decades_ trained with a blade and Hongbin was just a novic and yet even as they repelled him, even as one knocked the sword from his clasp and another brought him to his knees and wrest his hands behind his back to bind them, Hongbin smiled.

Because he had heard.

And he had hope.

***

Pain lanced sharp up Hongbin’s knees as he was thrown onto the floor but he was not given a moment’s respite before his lords’ slippered feet appeared in his line of vision and he was yanked upright by the forearm with enough force to flare bright pain at his shoulder.

His lord was angry.

 _Finally_.

His eyes were wide and flecks of spit spewed from his mouth as he leaned down towards Hongbin’s kneeled form and growled. “I forgave you your transgressions—your _stupidity—”_ another shake, another flare of pain, “and _this i_ s how you repay me? By helping that wretch escape! I always knew you were dull Hongbin but this is just—it is senseless!”

And despite the fact that the lord’s anger had been the one thing Hongbin had been most cautious of in days before, he found himself almost relishing in it now. So that when he brought his gaze up to the lord’s there was an almost feral grin stretched across his lips.

Because now his lord would know, Hongbin was not _his_ , had _never_ been his.

“And why would I not help the man I love,” he spat back, voice hard, biting, far removed from the placid empty lilt he’d always used on the man before. He lunged forward so that he was mere inches away from his lord’s face, snarling as he hissed, “why would I not save him? Why wouldn’t I try and escape with him, escape _you_ and your bed and your hands and your touch that I’d grown to _hate—“_

The lord jerked back, flinging Hongbin to the floor once more, face a mask of open shock as he reeled from Hongbin’s disrespect.

“How dare you go! I fed you, clothed you, gave you a life of luxury!”

“And I would have thrown it all back at your feet if it meant even a _chance_ of a life with him!”

Suddenly his lord was beyond angry, he was furious.

Because something he’d only ever thought of as _his,_ was suddenly _not_.

His face contorted, turning almost purple in his rage, eyes wild as he cried, “I _own_ you Hongbin, do not forget who bought you, you are _mine—!”_

“I was never yours!” Hongbin shouted back, years and years of anger he had not even known he’d felt coming forth, “I am my own!”

The room was a dearth of sound interspersed only with their panted breaths. Hongbin, kneeling, chest heaving, while the lord stood.

Finally, it was the lord who spoke, tone softer in volume but just as coldly furious.

“You have disobeyed me for the last time Hongbin, thrown the life I had granted you away—” he paused, a dark smile that did not reach his eyes slithering across his lips, “but rest assured, if you love that wretch so much you can join him.”

And despite every single cell of Hongbin’s body telling him otherwise, for a brief, _brief,_ moment Hongbin could not help but _hope._

“When my guard catches him—and he _will_ be caught—we will drag him back here and the last thing he will see before he is beheaded is your own corpse. You were a good consort Hongbin, but a whore, no matter how delicious can always be replaced.”

The lord turned and began leaving and for the first time since being dragged here Hongbin felt fear, but it was instantaneously replaced with a determination as strong as the steel of Hyuk’s sword. He had not lied to Hyuk when he had told him that he would not be killed, he had already thought of a way to make sure that he would live.

“If you kill me your name will be blackened, and it will be a stain you will never be able to remove!”

The lord paused at the door but did not turn as he spoke.

“You are a _whore_ Hongbin, no one will mourn you, much less notice your death.”

“Your whore I might have been but you were never shy to flaunt me, were always quick to exalt my beauty, my status of untouched, the price you paid to have me or the price of the lavish gifts you bestowed upon me. You blathered to any of the lesser nobles who would listen and even those who would not. I was another of your riches and the whole town, the whole circle of nobles of this region know of me. Would it not seem odd then if you were to kill me so suddenly?”

The lord turned finally and although his face remained steady, there was already a trace of suspicion in his eyes.

“It is within my right. You are mine Hongbin and you disobeyed me, incurred my disfavor, I can punish you however I see fit.”

“And do you not think the other nobles would not _talk,_ about what exactly your favorite whore had to have done to warrant death _?_ And don’t you think then when they arrive to the inevitable conclusion it would not be the epitome of embarrassment to _you_?”

His lord was walking towards him now, eyebrows creased one more, even as he strained to sound disaffected. “You speak as if anybody would know I would be the one to kill you. Many people meet their death in an entirely accidental manner.”

Hongbin forced himself to laugh, something loud that echoed off the walls, “You think the rest of your consorts wouldn’t know what you did, the rest of your servants, the people you barely even notice?”

And of this Hongbin was sure of, the rest of his lord’s consorts, Boa, Soyou, Dasom, Kyungsoo—if Hongbin were to turn up dead tomorrow, they would _know_ why.

“They would _know_ and they would talk and you cannot silence them all, you wouldn’t even know who it was that did the talking. But you’d realize it all too late as you walked out into the city square only to be met with noblewoman chittering behind their fans, their mocking eyes aiming in your direction and nothing but judgmental silence and malicious amusement from the noblemen.”

It was his lord who laughed then, cheerless and grating.

“And who would believe the words of a few whores, of peasants? It is their words against mine Hongbin and I am a _Lord._ ”

“Oh but think about it, _my Lord,”_ Hongbin almost sing-songed, “think, what will the people say? That you couldn’t keep your consort in check, couldn’t keep him in line, couldn’t make him _obey._ That he’d run off and tumbled with one of your bodyguards, a _much_ younger one no less, a blow to any man’s pride but to you and your status _,_ it’s practically an insult. They’ll start to wonder _why_ it is I did the things I did. I was obviously your favorite, you lavished me with gifts and I had risen in your esteem so highly that I had acquired a spot in your household beyond that of just a consort. So why, why would I have chosen to turn my back on all that?

“Oh, they’ll think, he is a _consort_ , he is expected to both give and take pleasure. _Oh,_ they’ll think, maybe it was that his lord could not satisfy, after all his lord _is_ a little past in years, maybe his consort was unhappy enough, unfulfilled enough that he had to find his pleasure elsewhere, maybe his lord could just no longer endure—”

The slap echoed across the room, the sting of it amplified more by its sound than by the force it was swung with. But Hongbin grit his teeth and spoke without a tremor in his voice, using the same training he’d received to be this man’s consort to speak with clarity and cold assurance, as if what he stated was nothing but fact instead of his one attempt to save his own neck from the bite of a sword.

“It is my understanding, my Lord _,_ that most reputations are tarnished, sometimes irreparably so, by nothing more than mere gossip, regardless of whether it comes from nobles _or_ their servants. Most people do not tend to discern nor care from whose mouth rumor comes from.”

His lord’s age lined face was turning blotchy red with rage, frustration evident in the curl of his fists; but Hongbin could tell already, his lord had seen the truth in Hongbin’s words.

This was a battle that his lord had lost.

***

So Hongbin was not killed, he was banished, and it had not been a sudden shocking thing. No, in the weeks that passed—the weeks were, _blessedly,_ Hyuk had never been found—his lord had taken his time, had gone to great lengths to make it look a natural process.

Hongbin had been his favored for a _long_ time and so it had come to none of the other noble’s surprise as his lord had begun taking newer, _younger,_ consorts to bed. It was only a matter of time before Hongbin’s room was given to one of these newer consorts and he was sent to live back in the consort house. A house which now had guards posted at its exits day and night.

And when Hongbin was finally, _quietly_ , sold off to a lesser noble—a friend of his lord who looked at him with oily eyes and an even slicker smile—it caused barely a ripple in his lord’s estate, not even worth mentioning to the rest of the nobles of the town.

Although his fellow consorts knew, even if they could do nothing to stop his selling.

The day he was to leave Boa had enveloped him in a bone crushing hug and held his hand in hers as he stepped out of the consort house, finally letting go only when he had stepped out of her reach, impotent rage in her and Soyou’s eyes as the latter held onto a crying Dasom and Kyungsoo regarded him with a stony expression and eyes that shone bright with tears.

It was as Hongbin had been taken away in his new lord’s carriage, as the man had smiled at him, eyes like a particularly lowly rat, that Hongbin had let himself one last moment of emotion.

He closed his eyes and clasped his hands and in his mind he thought only of Hyuk and his last words as Hongbin had let him go.

_I will find you. I’ll come back for you, I swear._

Hongbin’s eyes stung but he did not let them water.

 

**Author's Note:**

> The series is alive!
> 
> Wow, this has been sitting in my drafts for close to two years now and I'm just very excited to have finally finished it. It definitely took a good long while and lots of furious writing followed by months of abandonment followed by furious writing but yay! It's finally posted!
> 
> I do plan for a continuation in the series where the focus will be Hyuk, but considering how long Hongbin's story took me to write after Bound I make no promises as to when that will be posted.
> 
> And as always, thanks to my favorite human for reading countless drafts of this and for listening to me rant about how iT'S ALMOST DONE for half a semester. Literally none of my writing would be finished if it wasn't for her. 
> 
> Comments are very very much appreciated and always make me smile like an idiot so please leave some if you want ^^
> 
> Oh, and fell free to yell at me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/jhopekoreanjesu) too!


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